


Leave me Breathless

by IseliaDragonwill



Series: Experimentations [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Biting, Breathplay, Choking, Dom!Ignis, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Smut, Sub!Noctis, help I wrote a smut, there's no going back now boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 23:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IseliaDragonwill/pseuds/IseliaDragonwill
Summary: Against his lips, he can feel Noctis's breath hitch, then grow shallow, the bite of the leather already accomplishing its purpose. A thin trail of saliva keeps them tethered as Ignis pulls away, his voice husky and low. “Well then, let us begin.”





	Leave me Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> Help, I wrote a smut. That's it. No going back. Do or die. 
> 
> That being said, interested to know what people think? Smut is not a thing I really write. I would love to, but the whole "oh my god, I wrote about cocks" thing kinda gets in the way. Not sure why. I'm pretty shameless IRL, but tell me to write about dudes doing each other and suddenly I just freeze up. 
> 
> From the IgNoct discord.
> 
> Prompt: chokers and sock garters (really there's more of the former than the latter, but that's okay)
> 
> Suggested by the lovely and talented Kirakanjo, who fills my soul with delicious IgNoct arts. This one is for you.
> 
> IgNoct 20 x 22

Noctis sits at attention on the bed under Ignis's discerning gaze, blue eyes following the man's every step as he paces the room. His shirt has been discarded in favor of pale skin, though his black slacks and signature leather gloves remain. A part of Noctis can't help but feel as prey in the presence of a deadly predator. It sends a nervous trill through him, one that settles in the pit of his stomach. A precursor of what is to come.

Though Ignis exudes an air of confidence, assured in every calculated movement, he secretly fares no better than Noctis. The sight of the Prince in his black boxers and socks (complete with the rare appearance of garters to match), wearing Ignis's own white, striped shirt, unbuttoned to expose a lean stomach and chest, has the Advisor coming undone at the seams with a possessive hunger. Years of practiced patience warn him against rushing, despite his growing need urging him otherwise. This is new territory for them both. 

In one swift movement, Ignis places a knee onto the bed and leans into Noctis, admiring the flush on his cheeks as a cool, leather-clad thumb traces the lines of his lips. Green eyes narrow to slits as a pink tongue runs over the leather and draws the offered digit into a warm, wet mouth with a welcoming suck. Ignis forces down a moan, knowing he must settle one thing before the haze of desire pulls him in too deep. 

“Noct…” He exhales the Prince's name, caught between a question and a prayer. “You know what to do if it's too much?”

The spell is broken and the only consolation is found in necessity. Noctis groans. “Use our safeword or snap my fingers if I can't talk.”

Ignis's hand finds the nape of Noctis's neck, cupping it as a firm kiss is planted on his lips. His other hand slips into his back pocket; within it, the impetus for their play tonight. He drags the leather collar up the planes of Noctis's body to his throat, wrapping it around that smooth, porcelain column of skin, fastening the buckle one notch tighter than snug, per the Prince's request. Against his lips, he can feel Noctis's breath hitch, then grow shallow, the bite of the leather already accomplishing its purpose. A thin trail of saliva keeps them tethered as Ignis pulls away, his voice husky and low. “Well then, let us begin.”

Noctis manages a nod. Following Ignis with his eyes to the pile of pillows propped against the headboard behind him, he doesn't waste a moment when the invitation is given to nestle himself, back to chest, between his Advisor’s legs. His hurry leaves him short of breath, but he still manages a smile as he rests his head on Ignis's shoulder and mouths at his neck. Every time he parts his lips to lick or run his teeth, languid, over Ignis's skin, he feels a subtle strain on his next breath, a reminder that the collar is still there. 

Ignis wraps both arms around the man lying against him, relishing in their closeness. He can't tell if Noctis realizes that he's merely stalling at this point, but he truly does savor the feeling of the Prince’s body flush to his, warm and solid. His hands explore the lean muscle of Noctis's chest, stopping along the way to bestow some attention on the two sensitive nubs that are hard under his touch. It doesn't take much before Noctis is arching his back with a gasp and Ignis is sinking his teeth into the flesh right above the leather collar, subduing him once more. Red begins to bloom and Ignis, feeling sympathy even through the guise of domination, sucks over the mark in apology.

“Are you ready?” 

The question ghosts over Noctis’s ear. He nods and presses himself closer to Ignis, eliminating any space for even air between them. A blush lights up his cheeks when he feels Ignis’s length nudging at his lower back, causing him to grind back against him without a second thought. “Yeah, go on Specs.” 

There’s no turning back now. Ignis slides both hands up Noctis’s chest and pushes his oversized shirt off of his shoulders. The fabric clings and pools around his waist, framing a rather impressive erection, still hidden beneath the Prince’s underwear. Ignis’s eyes linger on it as his pointer finger and thumb find a home just under the line of Noctis’s jaw and begin to apply pressure a little at a time. He doesn’t see Noctis’s eyes flutter shut, but can hear his breathing start to falter, feel his throat trying to resist against the hinderance. 

For a few minutes he stays like that, constricting and releasing his hold on Noctis’s neck, content to feel the Prince writhing against him. The lack of air leaves him a bit lightheaded, making him all the more receptive to the attention Ignis is lavishing on the rest of his body; butterfly kisses covering his cheeks, nibbles to his ear, Ignis’s free hand drawing lines up and down his sides, stopping occasionally to grip one of his hips or tweak his nipple. It’s more than Noctis has ever felt, yet somehow not enough. He fists the fabric of his Advisor’s pants, yanking on them with each new sensation and stifled gasp that makes it past the collar to escape his lips. Everything in him wants to beg for more, wants to feel the release dancing just out of reach, but it comes out as nothing more than a broken whine. 

Ignis’s hand encircles Noctis’s neck once more, squeezing to cut him off with a sputtering cough. His other hand finally moves down to palm at the Prince’s clothed erection, the fabric restraining him now thoroughly damp with precome. He’s close and Ignis knows it. Sneaking his fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers, he pushes the fabric down and draws a line up the underside of his cock, loosening the hand around his neck so a pent-up moan can spill out as Noctis gasps for breath. He can hear his name interspersed between shallow pants.

“Ig...Ignis...p-please…”

He obliges, constricting Noctis’s airway one last time. Gloved fingers wrap around his length, finally indulging the Prince of what he so desperately desired. His thumb swipes across the head, gathering some precome to allow the leather to slide over his cock a bit easier. He’s rewarded with a strangled groan as Noctis twitches in his hand and another trail of precome leaks over his fingers. With each stroke Noctis is arching against him, scrabbling for purchase wherever he can find it, keening and whimpering and it’s everything Ignis can do to hold him tight to his chest and prevent his hips from bucking up into his hand. Noctis’s frustration at the lack of control is palpable at this point. Ignis drinks it in like a fine wine, intoxicating.

“Do you enjoy having your control taken from you?” 

Noctis doesn’t have a chance to answer, as Ignis’s teeth sink into his neck once more and coax an orgasm out of him. His body convulses in time with each pulse of his cock, each flutter of his eyes, unsure if the lightness in his head is from his climax or the breaths that he has been so denied during their little game. A heaviness washes over him. Some part of him is aware of the collar being removed, the air flowing freely into him at last. His throat is scratchy and sore. He thinks that he tries to speak Ignis’s name, but all that comes out is a hoarse, incoherent whisper. 

It’s enough. 

Ignis is gathering him closer, threading his long fingers through his hair and murmuring small praises in his ear. Gone is the domineering man that wielded his control like a weapon just a few minutes ago and returned is his doting, concerned Advisor. Noctis hums and lets himself relax into Ignis, as his body is checked for any lasting damage. He knows there's none, but indulges Ignis his worrying. Besides, it feels nice, this tenderness. It's part of why he loves him so damn much.

“I may have bruised you. I'll endeavor to be more careful next time.” Ignis frowns at the faint outline of his fingers on Noctis's neck and a narrow band of discoloration from the collar. This isn't like the marks from love bites he usually paints on Noctis's skin. These feel somehow colder.

Noctis shrugs. “You were fine. It's what I wanted.” 

“But…”

It's difficult in the state he's in, but Noctis pulls a potion from the Armiger with fumbling hands and drinks it down. He knows the marks must have faded when he feels the tension melt from Ignis's arms. “Better? But you're going to leave me a new one to make up for it.”

Ignis's lips spread into a smile against Noctis's neck. This is more familiar to him, being commanded by his Prince. It excites him. He wonders if Noctis has noticed.

“Yes, your Highness…”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://iseliadragonwill.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FallenIsel)!


End file.
